


The Black Adder's Kiss

by AmericanDaydream



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dubcon Kissing, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, F/M, Fear Play, Good and Evil, Knifeplay, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 09:54:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12956724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmericanDaydream/pseuds/AmericanDaydream
Summary: The temptation of the Knight Commander of the Nine by a dashing, silver-tongued assassin.





	The Black Adder's Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short story/vignette that's been sitting on my cloud forever. It's an idea I wanted to write down, and it turned into this.

Brynhild went to brush the pesky fly that kept buzzing around her face that night, but her heart almost stopped when she recognized the unforgiving graze of steel on her chin. Her eyes flew open, her mind still wheeling from the nightmare. Before she could scream, a gloved hand covered her mouth. She glanced up into a shadowed face of the phantom sitting on the edge of her bed. Grinning down at her, he brought a finger to his lips, telling her to keep silent. Bryn had remembered him well, but had hoped to never see him again. 

“Lucien…” she uttered darkly. “All I’d have to do is scream and every knight here will be upon you. You will be dead in seconds.”

He seemed to like it when she said his name, for his grin grew wider. The dagger was against her face again, this time pressing her lips with a pointed tip. “And just in time to see their commander’s lifeless body lying next to mine.” What did he want with her this time? If only he would just attempt to kill her already so she could finally be rid of him one way or the other. The assassin really enjoyed these games with her, contests of strength and resolve, but they were beginning to get a bit old. Bryn swallowed nervously as the blade trailed down to her throat. The sharp edge glided just light enough to not leave a mark, but the impending danger was ever present. A slight turn of the wrist and she’d be dead. If he wanted to kill me, he would have done so by now. No. He wanted something else from her besides her life. The seductive smile under Lucien’s dark hood led her to one guess. The way the assassin leaned in to replace the blade’s touch with his fingers confirmed her hunch, and it both sickened and excited her. She didn’t want to admit it, but part of her wanted this, to be taken secretively and almost against her will. It was the only way she would have him. 

Chills shot through Bryn’s nerves as the warm metal wandered down her chest. It sliced easily through the thin linen of the nightdress she wore, and Lucien daintily parted the fabric as if to unwrap a delicate gift. “Ah. As white and as pure as the snows of Skyrim itself,” Lucien remarked. With the pointed tip of the dagger he traced imaginary lines under her breast, then up to a pale pink nipple. It stiffened at the cool night air and the caress of the hard steel. The heat in Bryn’s face began to rise as it did between her legs. Her heartbeat was so loud in her ears the night crickets and snores from her soldiers began to fade. 

Lucien pushed back his black hood. It took away some of his mystery, but not the danger from the way his dark eyes burned in the moonlight. He leaned in until he was inches away from her face. “A kiss before dying, my sweet?”

Bryn swallowed uneasily. The way he almost seemed to purr with hushed breath made it difficult to keep from completely surrendering to him. “You’re going to kill me at last then?” she whispered with a straight face. 

Lucien just smirked. A hand slipped up Bryn’s ribs to brush a thumb over her nipple before gently squeezing her breast. “The Dread Father demands satisfaction,” he purred. 

Her eyelids drifted shut as a shiver shot through her chest. A simple caress and she was already at his mercy. The thought was frightening, but she hoped that he wouldn’t stop. “What is it you demand?” she asked, the tone of her voice changing from firm to wispy and delicate. 

She was answered with a warm mouth closing over her nipple. His tongue rhythmically flicked over the puckered skin, occasionally tugging and sucking at it. Bryn’s hands went to his shoulders to try to push him off, but only ended up running her fingers through his hair and holding him closer to her chest. He nipped at her breast before finally responding. “I’m not demanding anything of you, my dear. If you wish me to stop…” She was sure Lucien already knew the answer from the way her body writhed beneath his touch. The throbbing heat between her thighs nagged at her and itched to be touched. Bryn imagined him thrusting inside of her body, granting her release from her primal hunger. Her hands were already clutching at his robes, pulling him in. Though her eyes were still closed, she could practically feel the self-assured grin that Lucien no doubt wore on his face right now. He leaned down as if he was about to whisper something in her ear, and began to softly kiss at the delicate skin on the side of her neck. His caresses were gentle and loving, but Bryn knew better than to ever describe Lucien Lachance as “loving.” No, she would not let herself be so deluded to believe that he actually loved her. She knew that he would hold no remorse if he were to suddenly kill her right now. What was taking place, and what was likely about to take place, was born out of nothing but lust. It just so happened that he needed release that night as much as she did.

Bryn had sworn vows of chastity as she pledged her service to the Nine Divines. But with each touch, each kiss upon her bare skin, those promises were quickly dissolving, the needs of her body crying out much louder than her conscience. When Lucien went to kneel on the bed between her legs, she obediently parted them, letting his hips rest between her thighs. He teased her with a small grind, and Bryn felt a stiff arousal through his clothes. 

Lucien remained surprisingly calm and in control of his desire, no doubt the result from years of discipline he needed to attain the rank he had, a self discipline that likely saved his life a few times. It was infuriating, especially when she squirmed and ached beneath, so easily surrendering all of her sacred principles for one night with a handsome Dark Brotherhood assassin who would kill her without hesitation. Lucien seemed almost amused by this, and was likely reveling in this power he held over her. Thank the Divines he didn’t point it out. Instead he took his time kissing her, mercilessly driving her mad. He left a trail of kisses down her collarbone until he reached her other breast, closing a mouth on the other nipple he had neglected earlier. 

Bryn’s heart pounded hysterically against her chest. Blood rushing was all she could hear when Lucien’s head began to travel lower. He kissed at her skin through the fabric of her nightgown before hiking the bottom hem up past her waist. Inch by inch his warm lips pressed against soft flesh, progressing slower as he traveled down before wrapping an arm over her belly. A devilish glance, and he leaned in between her legs.  
Bryn let out a strangled scream when Lucien’s tongue lapped at her clit, but she immediately shut up when the edge of a short sword met her throat. “Shhh, shh, shh. What did I say about screaming?” he muttered with a hard, warning tone that sent an entirely different shiver through Bryn’s nerves. Intimidation blended with impassioned need. The arrogant bastard was truly enjoying this. It wasn't about sex for him, not about cumming or her pleasure. It was about pure domination. It was about getting the knight commander to struggle and writhe at his will, to take complete control that she willingly reluinqishes to him, with the occasional reminder that he wasn't above threatening her all the while. Bryn could only clamp her hand over her mouth to smother moans while Lucien continued to eat her out. Her hips lurched and bucked, but Lucien held her down and kept her right where he wanted. The more she tensed, the faster he'd move his tongue to greedily drink her in. His whisker scratched and burned the delicate skin between her legs as he pressed his mouth against her. 

When he slipped a finger into her, it sent Bryn careening over the edge of what little control over her body she had left. One hand twisted in the sheets, the other in a fist that she bit down on to keep from screaming as an orgasm washed over her in waves of convulsions. Lucien continued to lazily lap up the wetness on her skin, sending electric aftershocks through Bryn’s body, until he was satisfied, finishing with a soft bite on her clit.

Her fluid glistened on his chin when Lucien sat up. He gave her an arrogant smile before wiping his face with the back of his arm. The erection that tented his robes was also obvious, and bigger than Bryn had assumed. Excitement renewed when Lucien knelt between her legs once again, bringing a knee over his shoulder. He pressed himself against her naked flesh as he asked, “Do you want more?” He proded at her bare entrance through his clothes. Bryn closed her eyes but couldn't suppress a moan. Lucien snickered at her reaction, but she knew he had to be aching, too. She could feel him throbbing even through layers of fabric. Lucien quickly kissed the inside of her knee before getting up from her bed. “I'm afraid it won't be tonight, my dear.” The way he seemed so cavalier about it made Bryn furious, but all she could muster was a disappointed whimper.

“Bastard.”

“I won't make you wait forever, darling. It won't be long.” Lucien smiled as he drew up his hood, his face fading into the shadow save for the reflection of the moonlight in his eye.

“Is that it?” Bryn said. “You're leaving? Just like that?”  
Lucien slid the sword into the sheath at his hip with a cold scrape. “As I said before, the Dread Father demands satisfaction.” He glanced over his shoulder as he stood in the doorway with an evil smile on his face. “But not from you. Not yet at least. This was entirely my moment of weakness.” And like a ghost, he disappeared into the night.


End file.
